What I love about Little Hill Towns

The stream gurgling in the valley,
The sparrows dust bathing in the street,
The church bell at 12,
The ferns on the old stone wall,
The ice-cream man on hot afternoons,
The road winding up the hill,
The lambs nibbling on the hedge plants,
The corner tea shop,
Waiting for hours in a scenic bus stop,
The white daisies nodding in the evening breeze,
Million twinkling stars in the night,
The owlet calling from the mango tree.

White daisy
One of the most precious looking things around here.

The above poem is dedicated to Mercy who helped me discover the joy behind little things. This perspective has really transformed my world.